Harmony of the Worlds
by lightning bird
Summary: His favorite teacher is a demon, but just how did Dexter, Boy Genius, meet the most popular Substitute Creature in Townsville?
1. First

**_Harmony of the Worlds_  
**

by lightning bird

A/N: A bit of fluff set firmly in my Fusion Fall A/U. It ties in directly with events cited in _Invisible Sun _and _A Time for Heroes_. Mr. Green's friendship with Ms. Keane is shanghaied directly from the imaginations of DesertHaze and SSpeedy. These characters belong to Cartoon Network, not me. I'm just borrowing them and I promise to put them back where I found them when I'm done playing.

**Kepler's First Law: The orbit of every planet is an ellipse with the Sun at a focus. **

He was grateful that this part of Townsville, at least, believed in clearing the snow off the sidewalks. If only his own neighborhood could follow their example. His feet were already freezing cold and his horns and ears ached, making Kilroy Green wonder what it was about this city that made him stay as opposed to going somewhere warmer.

The house was easy enough to spot – a sleek retro throwback to the 1960's set amidst more traditional styles of houses, all squares and straight lines save for the three round windows across the front of the second story. The bright red door was surprisingly cheering as Kilroy regarded his destination. A few minutes still remained before his eleven o'clock interview. Not wanting to show up early and seem overly eager (when in fact he was quite desperate) Kilroy lingered, slowing his steps and checking his watch a few times as he tried to ignore the bitterly cold wind.

He was shivering, but he wasn't quite sure if it was from the cold or nerves. He was as used to interviewing as he was to the rejection that inevitably followed, but for the first time in a long time, he well and truly wanted this position. He had never been afforded the opportunity to put his college degrees to work. So many people looked at him and could not get past the surface, judging him for what he was and not what he knew. Demons were not commonplace outside of Citiesville, and few people were comfortable around green skin and horns. Still, Jenny Keane had called him last night in a state of great excitement to tell him that she knew the man that had advertised for teachers versed in particle physics. He had called her checking Kilroy's professional references and they had talked for almost half an hour.

_"Who is he?"_

_"Professor Patrick Utonium, the geneticist. The father of the Powerpuff Girls," _Jenny had said, delighted_._

Green knew the name – any scientist worth his salt knew the name Utonium - and he had met the girls once. As he moved up the shoveled walkway he could not imagine what use Utonium would have for a particle physics tutor, but Jenny had said something about the Professor acquiring a ward in January and needing someone to teach him.

She had left him with a sense of hope, a feeling he had not enjoyed in a very long time. If this didn't pan out, though, he stood to lose a great deal, starting with his apartment and ending with whatever shreds of self-worth remained after so many years of disappointment and struggle.

The door opened a few seconds after he rang the bell. The man that stood before him was tall and slim with dark hair and gray eyes and the sort of welcoming smile that Kilroy had only seen out of Jenny Keane. He offered his hand immediately.

"You must be Mr. Green. I'm Patrick Utonium. Please, come in."

He stepped over the threshold into another world. This was a _home_, warm and snug and secure, not just a house. Pictures on the walls showed three girls and he immediately recognized the triplets he had met. He delighted to see the difference five years had made in the Utonium girls. They were beautiful.

"I taught your daughters once in kindergarten," Kilroy observed when he realized he was staring.

The Professor smiled, something he seemed to do a lot. "Yes, I know. After Ms. Keane told me who you were I remembered that they gave you quite a glowing report. I didn't dare tell them that you were coming over today or they all would have found some excuse to stay home from school to see you again."

It had been a long time since he'd been so complimented and Kilroy nodded in appreciation.

"Let me get your coat. I just made some coffee. Would you like some while we talk? I know it's freezing out there today."

He blinked, surprised at the invitation, astonished by his reception so far as he handed over the weighty wool coat. "Coffee would be wonderful," he said, still taking in his surroundings.

Another framed picture caught his eye. This was of a fair young boy with bright red hair and eyes as blue as a summer sky. He was handsome in a keen, sharp-faced way. The picture had caught him looking up from his work with just the hint of a smirk on his face. It was a very telling portrait because even in a photograph, every line and aspect of this child seemed to speak of formidable intelligence.

Utonium said nothing when he saw Kilroy's interest, but lead the way into the kitchen. Seated at the table, sipping coffee and nibbling an oatmeal cookie, the demon was launched into one of the most unusual job interviews he'd ever been on.

Physics never even came up in the first hour. Instead they ended up talking about teaching and regaling one another with stories of their undergrad years, where it was evident they had both been uptight nerds. They were laughing and working their way through the coffee when Kilroy abruptly remembered that this was a job interview. He hesitated, surprised at himself and realizing how much the Professor had managed to draw him out. It had been an age or more since he had so enjoyed a morning.

"Is something wrong?" Utonium asked.

He smiled faintly. "I've . . . I've never had an interview quite like this."

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I've never had to hire such specialized tutors before. My ward is particularly intelligent as well as being in quite an unusual situation insofar as his creative talent is being utilized. For anyone that's going to be around him, character is as important as knowledge and teaching skills. I've got your transcripts and I've read all your published works, so I know the degree of knowledge. The fact that you've got your Masters in particle physics and astrophysics is a big plus. I've got a lot of respect for Ms. Keane and her assessment of your teaching ability, and believe me, that ability will be tested to the fullest."

"And that leaves us with character."

"Precisely. Well, that and a background check by the DoD."

Green gaped for a moment before he found his voice again. "The Department of Defense?"

"Long story, but yes."

He realized Utonium was giving him a chance to come clean with any marks against him that a background check would uncover, thus saving them both time and grief. Looking into those gray eyes, Kilroy smiled.

"I've lived a remarkably bland life overall."

He poured more coffee, a clear indication that the interview wasn't over yet. "I'm glad to hear it. So what hobbies do you have?"

It was almost one in the afternoon when the meeting ended. Even if nothing came of it, Kilroy was infinitely glad he had let Jenny persuade him into sending his resume to the ad she had found on the internet. He had missed being able to talk so freely about science. People that could appreciate such conversation were few and far between.

With a thoughtful look, Utonium escorted him to the door. Kilroy fully expected to be told he'd hear from the Professor and braced himself for the awkwardness of such a moment and the return to the biting cold of winter and reality, when Utonium abruptly asked,

"Would you be able to come back Saturday?"

"Of course," he replied before he even fully realized the implications. When was the last time he'd been asked to come back for a second interview? He couldn't remember.

"I deliberately haven't told you much about the boy that's going to be my ward. I think it would be best for each of you draw your own conclusions. He'll be here this weekend and I'd like you to meet him so we can see how well you'd get along."

He was surprised. Rarely were students and teachers given such an option. In the past Kilroy had been handed a student and was expected to teach them regardless of their interest or intelligence. It said a great deal - both about the boy and Utonium.

"I would very much like to meet him."

"Good. Ten o'clock work for you?"

He smiled, hope stirring in his chest. "I'll be here, Professor, and thank you."

"You haven't met him. Don't thank me yet."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

It was snowing the second time he stepped up to that cheery red door. He could not help but smile to himself as he rang the doorbell. He had called Jenny and told her every detail about the interview with Professor Utonium three days ago, and her optimism had definitely spilled over and lifted his own spirits. She had not known anything more about Utonium's ward or why the Department of Defense would want to do a background check on him just so he could privately tutor this boy, but she did say that the odds were good that the Powerpuff Girls would be home.

The door opened and he smiled at the sight of blonde hair and blue eyes. "Bubbles," he said, grinning. "It's good to see you again!"

For a moment she was speechless, her eyes wide and her mouth a perfect 'o.' Then she let out an ear-piercing shriek of delight and she launched herself at him, seizing him around the middle in a tight hug.

"Mr. Green! Mr. Green! Mr. Green!"

Her shout brought more of the household running, and a moment later he was being triple-teamed as Blossom and Buttercup joined their sister. Never had he expected so ecstatic a greeting and Kilroy Green joined in their enthusiasm. A chuckle broke through the noisy reunion, and Kilroy looked up to see Professor Utonium watching from the doorway.

"Oh, and by the way, girls, your old substitute teacher is stopping by today," he said as if in a footnote.

The girls were all talking at once, asking after him, telling him about themselves, filling the air with sound as they all but carried him into the house.

"Welcome back," said Utonium. "Hot chocolate?"

The prospect of a snack got the triplets fired up anew. They would have gladly filled Kilroy's entire day save that their father interceded.

"Once you girls finish you'll have to excuse us," insisted Utonium as he poured out the steaming chocolate. "Mr. Green and I need to talk."

They didn't whine, but their disappointment was evident and they all sipped their drinks to make them last. Finally they were done, and the Professor promised Mr. Green would not leave without seeing them again.

"Is your ward here?" Green asked, wondering at the boy's absence.

"Yes," was Utonium's guarded reply as he gathered up the empty mugs. "Would you like to meet him now?"

"Yes, please."

"Come with me."

Filled with curiosity and trepidation, Green rose and followed Utonium to the hall. The door to the basement of the house had a keypad lock, and Utonium punched a series of numbers before hauling the door open.

Sound. Marvelous, beautiful sound. Piano music was playing in a room so perfectly soundproofed that not even his sensitive ears had picked up on it.

_"Turandot?"_ asked Kilroy, looking to his host for confirmation as he tried to remember the name of the aria. _"Nessum Dorma?"_

"Yeah." Utonium smiled. "He's on a Puccini kick lately."

"That's him playing?" breathed Kilroy, awestruck.

The dark-haired scientist nodded, his eyes shining with the obvious love he felt for his ward as he lifted a finger to his lips for quiet. "I gave him a keyboard for an early Christmas present," whispered Utonium. "He started this piece last week. He doesn't like having people listen to him practice, which is good because the girls are definitely _not_ on a Puccini kick."

They stood at the head of the stairs for a few moments, letting the music wash over them. Utonium smiled when the melody faltered. A small growl of annoyance reached Kilroy's ears and immediately the piece was picked up again. At the exact same spot the boy's fingering failed again and another growl, harsher this time, rose from the basement.

"His hands are too small yet for the fingering he's trying to play, but you can't tell him that," murmured the Professor as the music started again.

Kilroy tensed as the piano wound toward that trouble spot and -

"Blast!" shouted a young voice, followed by a small roar of anger.

"Dexter!" called Utonium at that exact moment.

"WHAT?"

The frustrated bellow only made the Professor shake his head as he lead the way down the steps. Green followed, ducking to fit through the doorway. He was intrigued and a little confused. The boy's speech seemed . . . off. Granted he'd only heard two words out of him, but Dexter's inflection was odd. Could he have a speech impediment of sorts?

"There's someone here to meet you."

Another grumble, a sure sign of someone trying to control their temper.

The steps lead into a basement laboratory that was spotlessly clean and filled with scientific equipment that transported Kilroy back to Princeton for a few precious moments. He did not have much time to look around because Utonium was extending his hand toward the young boy whose picture had given Green pause earlier this week.

Dexter hesitated for just a heartbeat as he took in Green's startling appearance. He recovered swiftly from the unexpected sight of green skin and horns and an eye patch. Small and bright were Green's first impressions and he found this boy equally startling. Heavy boots. Tinted glasses. A white lab coat that reached from his throat to his knees. Even as he stepped away from the keyboard set up in the corner of the lab, Dexter pulled long purple gloves onto his hands until almost every bit of him was covered. He moved with poise and determination as he came to stand beside Utonium, his hands clasped behind his back. He gazed at Kilroy with undisguised interest. There was a fierce, guarded intensity about him and his steady gaze that told Kilroy this was not an individual to be trifled with or underestimated.

If he had spent a day less than twenty years subbing for elementary schools, Green knew he would have been intimidated. He had no doubt that many an unsuspecting teacher had met their fate beneath that severe mien.

Utonium was smiling, unruffled by his ward's reaction. "Mr. Green, this is Dexter. Dexter, Mr. Green."

The boy looked questioningly up at the Professor, eyes narrowing at the onset of a frown. Plainly he knew nothing of Green.

"Max won't be here until two o'clock," his guardian replied to the unasked question. "Mr. Green has applied to teach you particle physics and possibly astrophysics."

Since Dexter made no attempt to shake hands, neither did Green. By themselves Dexter's gloves told a tale of a person that did not invite physical contact. Green had no intention of doing anything that would make this child uncomfortable.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," said the Professor cheerfully, stepping away.

Green blinked. He was leaving?

"Professor?" he and Dexter asked at exactly the same moment. They each caught themselves and exchanged a look. Dexter glowered. Kilroy smiled in return.

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," Utonium called, blithely abandoning them to their fate as he headed up the stairs.

He marshaled his defenses. Turning to face the supremely annoyed boy before him, Kilroy Green heard the lab door close. Suddenly he knew exactly how it felt to be thrown to the lions.


	2. Second

**_Harmony of the Worlds_**

**Kepler's Second Law: A line joining a planet and the Sun sweeps out equal areas during equal intervals of time.**

Dexter eyed Green closely, giving him a piercing look as if to ask _What can YOU possibly teach ME? _It was reassuring for Kilroy to know that Utonium had read all his published works - something he had been ignoring lately in light of trying to survive in Townsville - so it stood to reason that he knew more about physics than this boy. Utonium would not have gone through the initial interview otherwise. He tried to take comfort in that thought and he hoped that greater knowledge was enough to see him through.

Still, he felt that flaunting his intelligence was not the way to win this child over. He had answered an advertisement to teach particle physics and in truth he had expected to be working with someone much, much older than this. The boy before him could not be more than twelve or thirteen years of age. Few children could grasp physics, let alone the high energy physics that was his area of expertise, so Dexter had to be exceptional. Patrick Utonium - Nobel Prize winner and _THE_ name in the field of genetics - clearly thought the world of this boy. Enough to want to keep him. Beneath this prickly exterior, then, there must be someone worth knowing.

He knew there were a few things they had in common already. They had both been blindsided by Utonium's tactics, for one thing, and both were struggling to regain balance and control of the situation. Dexter was definitely on the defensive. It could only have been a deliberate move on Utonium's part - underhanded, yes, but effective. In addition to their mutual confusion, they both admired the work of Puccini. Green decided to start with that point.

"You play very well, Dexter," he said, filling the silence that fell so heavily between them.

"Thank you."

The words were clipped, the manner brusque. What sort of accent was that? Some odd eastern European conglomerate, it seemed. Could Dexter be Russian?

"Do you know the story of _Turandot_?"

Dexter snorted, clearly thinking little of Prince Calaf and his romantic notions. "An idiot prince falls in love with a murderous princess, answers her sentimental riddles, stumps her with his own riddle, and ends up marrying her."

So much for breaking the ice with Dexter. Small wonder Utonium had left. He didn't want to witness the carnage as the nice demon was torn to shreds by his ward. "In a nutshell, yes."

"The music is far more satisfying than the plot."

"I suppose it is. How long have you been taking piano lessons?"

"I don't any more. I took lessons for little over a year when I was eight. How long have you been teaching particle physics?"

He certainly cut straight to the chase. Kilroy hid his surprise at the boy's imperious bearing. Fed to the lions indeed - or lion cub, in this case. A cub was still a lion, though, and demanded respect despite its youth. Fortunately he was not without his defenses, which he proceeded to detail.

"I have several degrees in physics, with a Master's of Science in particle physics and also in astrophysics from Princeton University."

Those blue eyes flashed in challenge. _"Cum laude?"_

"_Summa cum laude_, actually," he said mildly. "I'll admit I've never actually _taught_ physics, though I've been a teacher for a long time."

"How long?" demanded his personal Inquisitor.

Dexter had yet to move from his spot or even look away, and Kilroy could count the number of times he'd blinked on just one hand. Utonium had not been joking when he said Green would be tested to the limit. Starting with the limit of his patience, it seemed. Dexter seemed to think nothing of grilling him for information. Certainly the boy wasn't making conversation. Kilroy kept his voice quiet and his temper in check as he replied, "More than twenty years."

"What is Kepler's third law of planetary motion?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he countered. This was something completely new. He'd never before had a student give him a pop quiz.

The change was faint, barely perceptible, but it was there, and Dexter's curiosity turned to contempt. A slight cant to his head, a narrowing of the eyes, and the gauntlet had been thrown down in wordless challenge. Kilroy fought his own reaction. If he gave in to his annoyance his fire demon heritage would literally turn the air around him into smoke and probably activate the lab's fire suppressant system and choke the pair of them with an argon atmosphere. He'd never tested that method, but Green was fairly certain that was not the way to score points or land a job.

"Don't you know?" asked the redhead with a hint of a sneer.

Green had been wrong. He not only needed to flaunt his intelligence, he needed to bludgeon this little imp over the head with it to make an impression and keep from being eaten alive. But first . . .

"Of course I do, Dexter. Do you know how to phrase a question politely?"

The softly-spoken reprimand caught Dexter off guard for an instant. Kilroy had dealt with children long enough to suspect that in day-to-day dealings with people, Dexter hid behind icy silence and rigid manners to cover his social clumsiness. Here in the Utonium house was his safe zone and he thought nothing about repelling invaders by any means he deemed necessary. At least he was a child in one aspect: he was seeing how far he could push. He had not expected to be pushed back so nicely.

In a tone just short of mocking Dexter asked, "Mr. Green, could you please tell me what Kelper's third law of planetary motion is?"

"The square of the orbital period of a planet is directly proportional to the cube of the semi-major axis of its orbit," he replied smoothly. "Of course, Kepler's laws are only approximates due to nonzero planetary masses and perturbations brought on by the gravitational pulls of other massive bodies."

That shut him up. Without skipping a beat, resting on his laurels, or giving Dexter a chance to formulate a reply, Kilroy smiled. "Interesting that you, a musician, should hit on the third law, Dexter, seeing as how it was known as the Harmonic Law. Kepler tried to utilize that law to express what he called the 'music of the spheres' that translated planetary rotations into musical notes. Have you ever read Kepler's _Harmonices Mundi_?"

There was a marked pause. "I . . . have not," Dexter admitted stiffly, raising his chin in definace.

His smile never faltered, but the moral superiority was definitely there and they both knew who had emerged the suprise victor in this engagement. "Perhaps you should," he said.

And turning around, he walked back up the stairs.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

As he reached the landing and opened the door to the basement lab, what he had said and done stuck Kilroy Green full force. Had he actually just told off the boy he had been hoping to teach? Good heavens. He was here in the hopes of getting a decent job, not to lock horns (as it were) with a child! He leaned back against the door, horrified with himself. He was a monster in every sense of the word.

A few minutes passed and Kilroy could not bring himself to move. That was it. It was hopeless. He'd blown his chance. He'd been chewed up and spit out. The best shot he'd had at steady employment for ages and he let his ego trip him up. For that fleeting satisfaction, that moment of superiority, he was ruined. Flat broke, almost friendless, jobless - he would have to leave Townsville after all these years.

He looked up in agony of despair as Utonium emerged from the kitchen. He was greeted with the same smile had last seen right before being thrown to the carrot-topped predator in the basement. The Professor checked his watch, his eyebrows rising in admiration.

"Not bad. You lasted twice as long as Dr. Stroud. Coffee?"

Open-mouthed, Kilroy stared. A long silence followed.

"Scotch?" suggested the Professor, only half-joking.

Kilroy groaned.

"Bill Stroud called him a monster and me insane before he stormed out, if that's any consolation."

At least he wasn't alone in being lion chow. "I'm the only monster here, Professor," he finally muttered.

"Not hardly. I know what he can be like when he's got his Irish up. You got a full dose of him almost at his worst."

He felt a twinge of anger at this man, his own Irish temper stirring. "You did that on purpose."

There was no hint of shame or remorse in those gray eyes. "Darned right I did. I think you know why, too."

Yes, he did. Exhausted, he gazed at the tiled floor. "Respect."

"Precisely." Professor Utonium nodded. "You have to command it from him, but once you've got it, it's absolute." Folding his arms, he quietly explained, "Dexter's had quite a few difficulties with his elementary school teachers this past year. They're intimidated by and don't want to deal with his genius, while he refuses to conform for their convenience. He's learned nothing from fifth grade but to be leery and defensive. He can't learn from someone he holds in contempt."

"How will I know if I've got his respect?"

"Trust me, Mr. Green, you won't have any room for doubt."

Truer words were never spoken.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He actually moped when he got back to his little apartment on the far side of Townsville. It was a miserable few rooms on the seedier side of the city and now even this was more than he could afford. Disappointment and regret consumed him as he sat pretending to read his old text books. What was wrong with him? He had pitted himself against a child. Just by reacting to Dexter's goading he had lost the encounter and probably his chance at the job. Yes, Dexter was an arrogant wiseacre, but Kilroy was over ten times his age and he knew better. It had seemed right at the moment, but sometimes doing what was right equated to professional suicide. Case in point . . .

There was nothing else for it and finally Kilroy went to bed early. He hadn't called Jenny as he'd promised he would and that nagged at him. He ended up angry at himself and unable to sleep.

Utonium had asked him to be patient for a few days until he could talk with Dexter and let his daughters have some say in the matter as well. Green had no choice but to wait, really. He had said the polite things he'd learned to recite over the years: _Thank you. I look forward to hearing from you. I'm at your convenience. _All those cloying, empty phrases that preceded the inevitable rejection that followed. He sighed, staring into the darkness. His apartment was too cold, but he could barely afford to heat it. Blankets and covers were piled high on the bed and he hunkered down unhappily, knowing he'd get warm eventually but not really caring any more. His real mistake had been in getting his hopes up.


	3. Third

**Harmony of the Worlds**

**Kepler's Third Law: The square of the orbital period of a planet is directly proportional to the cube of the semi-major axis of its orbit. **

Sunday. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. He'd always liked this time of year. Though Green was devoid of any religious beliefs and did not celebrate Christmas, back in Ireland his extended family had always used the holiday season for an excuse to have parties and overeat. He missed their boisterous good will and easy acceptance of their strange, half-bred Hinata-jin cousin. He knew the clan of fire demons would eagerly welcome him back without hesitation if he chose to return to Kilkenny, but there were too many dark memories for him to stay in Ireland for long. And while his mother's clan in Japan would take him in, they were far more stand-offish and it would be more out of a sense of obligation rather than genuinely welcoming him. He did not want to go where he was not wanted any more than he wanted to go back to a place that was haunted by the death of his parents.

Jenny Keane listened with sympathy and, rising up in his defense, concluded that Dexter was a complete brat and that Utonium was going to have a devil of a time finding someone willing to tolerate such a child. She asked him to come spend the day but he declined. Her sister was visiting and the last thing they needed was a depressed demon on their hands. Instead he spent the day with his books, listening to music and trying not to think. Unfortunately the classical music station he tuned into decided now was a good time to play _Nessun Dorma_. He glared at the radio, silently wishing a pox on Dexter for ruining the piece of music for him forever.

Sleep came easier that night, mostly because he was exhausted from almost no rest the night before. He was deeply asleep when the phone's loud ring yanked him out of a dream. He lifted his head. The room was dark. It was either very late or very early. He thought it must be the school system calling for a substitute teacher before he remembered that school was out for Christmas. With a groan he fumbled for the phone, picking it up on the fourth or fifth piercing ring.

"'ello," he mumbled.

_"Mr. Green,"_ said a revoltingly alert, completely annoyed, and heavily accented young voice._ "You will please explain to me why you had me read Kepler's _Harmonices Mundi _without first having versed myself in _Astronomia nova."

Kilroy Green lay in speechless disbelief, staring stupidly at the phone's glowing keypad. _Dexter?_

_"Mr. Green?"_

"D-Dexter?"

_"What?"_

"What time is it?"

There was a pause, and then Dexter demanded, _"Does the time make a difference in the answer?"_

He glanced at the clock. It was 4:46 in the morning.

"No. What . . . ?"

A small growl was carried over the phone line from Dexter's throat to Kilroy's pointed ear.

_"Why didn't you tell me to read _Astronomia nova _first? It was a necessary foundation for fully understanding and appreciating Kepler's intent with _Harmonices Mundi."

He sat up, shocked. "Wait. Wait. Dexter. You read _Harmonices Mundi_? The whole thing?"

Dexter sounded completely confused. _"Why would I read just part of it?"_

"And you understood it?"

_"Oh, please,"_ was the impatient answer. _"But I understood it better after reading _Astronomia nova."

He took a deep breath. "I only brought it up because we were discussing the music of the spheres." Discussion. Yes, that was what he would call their little clash. He realized something else. "Wait. You read _Astronomia nova_, too? It's never been translated into English."

_"I had my computer translate it for me. I ask you, Mr. Green, why is it the translation of _Astronomia nova_ generated by Computress would use the word 'earth' instead of 'world' exclusively for_ mundi _whereas the translation of _Harmonices Mundi _uses 'world'?"_

He clearly expected an immediate and detailed explanation even though Kilroy was still trying to drag his muddled brain out of sleep. Part of his mind was occupied with what was being said, another part with how it was said. Dexter's accent put a spin on Latin pronunciation that he had never imagined possible. What he did to English was bad enough. Latin didn't stand a chance.

_"Mr. Green?"_

"Dexter, it's quarter of five in the morning. Why aren't you asleep?"

_"Because I'm awake."_

He deserved that, all the way down to the tone of voice that questioned his intelligence.

"I . . . I really can't explain it right now."

_"Why not?"_

"Because I was asleep."

_"But you're not now. You did say that you were at our convenience."_

4:46 a.m. was an extremely liberal interpretation of that trite phrase. "Dexter . . ."

_"Fine. Come over when you wake up. I have a number of questions for you_."

"It's Christmas Eve!"

_"Oh. I had no idea that gravity took holidays."_

The insufferable little . . . genius.

The boy's voice was full of resolve and a hint of disappointment._ "Very well, Mr. Green. You're too busy to discuss physics. I will refrain from making any demands on your time in the future."_

"Wait. Please." He pressed a hand to his head, trying to absorb the rapid-fire series of events. "Give me a moment, Dexter."

This was it. His last chance. To get this job - if the possibility was even still on the table - he needed Dexter's respect and the only way he could do would be to come through for him right this instant. He had to look beyond the tone to what was being asked of him and what was being offered. Dexter was reaching out to him, giving him a chance in perhaps the only way that the boy knew how.

"I can come over this morning. I can be at your house by eight."

There was a pause, and then that Soviet Bloc accent grudgingly said, _"That would be acceptable."_

He resisted the urge to be sharp in his response. "Please tell the Professor that I'll be over. Call me if there's any problem so that we can reschedule the visit. All right?"

_"Yes."_ Dexter hesitated, then added, _"Thank you, Mr. Green."_

"I'll see you at eight."

_"Very well. Eight."_

He hung up only after Dexter did and then flopped back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. What did this mean?

This meant he'd better review Kepler and his laws of planetary motion. It absolutely would not due to be caught off his guard. He threw the blankets aside and got to work.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"I'm very sorry he called you at such an ungodly hour, Kilroy," said Utonium, apologizing for the third or fourth time. With a long yawn he added, "I had no idea he'd be up so early."

He smiled, nursing his cup of steaming coffee. "I don't mind. Honestly," he added when the Professor made a wry face. "It's been a very educational morning for us both, I think."

"He keeps extreme hours, I'll admit." Still in his pyjamas and bathrobe, unshowered and unshaved, Professor Utonium rubbed his forehead and ran a hand though his mussed hair. In comparison Kilroy Green was the picture of professional appearance and composure. "I can't really let the girls go flying off any time day or night and expect him to keep to a set schedule. It wouldn't be fair."

"Most parents wouldn't see things that way."

"Most parents don't have super heroes and super geniuses living under their roof. I have to make a lot of allowances." He searched for a spot to put his coffee cup on the paper-strewn dining room table. Dexter had claimed the room for an impromptu physics classroom while Utonium had slept in unawares. At least there had been ample supplies of coffee ready when he had wandered downstairs and found a demon in the dining room, drawing charts and talking gravity with his ward. "It's my fault, actually. He had some questions about astrophysics I couldn't answer and I told him to contact you. I had no idea he'd call so early. So long as he eats and sleeps enough and there's no structural damage to the house, I don't hound him about a schedule when he's on break from school. His parents didn't exactly enforce the rules for him and his older sister very evenly, and I won't be a hypocrite. However I do promise to make sure he keeps the phone calls to more reasonable times."

Utonium was rambling, still only half awake. Kilroy hid his pleasure by taking another mouthful of coffee. "I'd rather he call and get his answers as opposed to getting frustrated."

"Don't let him hear that," warned the Professor.

"Professor . . . so does this mean I'll be tutoring Dexter?"

The scientist smiled and yawned. "The girls gave him a talking-to to get him over his ego fit after you left Saturday. As soon as he figured out that you knew more about physics than he did, he took what you said as his first homework assignment and got cracking. Leaving him to stew like you did was probably the best thing you could have done. So I'd say that's a yes."

"I thought I ruined everything."

"You were the only one I interviewed who didn't let him steamroll you. He needs that from more adults than me, but not to the point where it breaks his spirit."

"I get the feeling there's more to this story than you're telling."

"A lot more," agreed Utonium, contentedly sipping his coffee.

That was all. Clearly the Professor wouldn't – or couldn't – provide any further details. Still uncertain, Kilroy was about to speak when Dexter returned with an armload of books pilfered from his guardian's office and laboratory.

"Dad, I couldn't find that thermodynamics book I was reading the last time I was here," said Dexter, obviously settling in for a siege.

"Probably it got mixed in with the books in the living room," the Professor replied, amused as Dexter hauled around his own weight in paper. "Mr. Green wants to know if he's got the job as your physics teacher."

Dexter paused, frowned, looked back and forth between them as if they should have known the answer all along, and railed in dramatic indignation. "What? He already gave me homework!"

"I wouldn't go that far," Kilroy said mildly.

Dexter came dangerously close to a smirk as he faced the demon. His Russian accent was thick as he snapped, "Fine, Mr. Green. I chose to take you up on your suggested reading."

"You said something about translating _Astronomia nova_?" wondered Green.

"Ah!" Dexter said, his blue eyes aglow with excitement. "Do you want to see the hard copy?"

"Of course," Green replied, smiling.

He pointed a purple-gloved finger. "Wait here!" ordered Dexter as if Green was going to wander off on him and get lost.

"Thank you," Utonium said quietly, gazing into the hall as Dexter tore down to the lab. "He doesn't get many opportunities to share his accomplishments with people that actually appreciate what he's done. And he doesn't get many opportunities to just be eleven years old."

Kilroy gazed across the table at this most devoted of fathers. "That is a shame."

"Yes, but I'm working on correcting that," the Professor admitted.

"I'm sure you are." He hesitated. "Professor, if you don't mind me asking . . . is Dexter Russian? Or possibly Ruritanian? Pottsylvanian?" He guessed at random, and his companion's amusement grew with each Eastern Bloc country he named.

Utonium chuckled. "He's actually Irish and Scottish. He was born in the Midwest and his family moved close to Downtown when he was still a baby."

"But . . ."

The question of Dexter's accent went unanswered. Seconds later the redhead raced back into the dining room with a printout that he handed to the demon, waiting expectantly. Kilroy turned a page and started reading, an impressed smile displaying his pointed teeth. Utonium set his coffee down and looked at the boy.

"Don't I get a copy?"

"Ack!" barked Dexter and darted out again, grinning happily and giving Kilroy a quick glimpse of what it was about the boy that charmed the Professor so completely. He returned to the translated pages in his hands, admiration filling him. He felt eyes upon him and looked up to see Utonium watching him.

"So how soon can you start, Mr. Green?"

He flashed a smile at the scruffy genius across from him and glanced at the cluttered table. "Immediately, if not sooner."

Pounding feet up the stairs and then Dexter burst back in with a second printout for his father. "See?" he exclaimed, pointing to the copy in his hand. "It says earth, not world, for _mundi_. Why?"

With a slow, fond smile for his son, Utonium sipped his coffee. "Sooner, please, Kilroy. I don't think any of us can wait for immediately."

_-Fin-_


End file.
